


take my soul (and make it undone)

by bythineownhand (silklegend)



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Adalind Schade/Juliette Silverton/Hank Griffin, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dom/sub Undertones, Feudalism, Honesty and communication, I will update the tags as I go because I'm honestly not sure what else to put, Lord Nick Burkhardt, M/M, Minor Nick Burkhardt/Juliette Silverton, Pack Dynamics, Self-Indulgent, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, look honestly they all just love each other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:40:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21899812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silklegend/pseuds/bythineownhand
Summary: Nick and Monroe go back in time to prevent the apocalypse and if they fail, at least try to make the world a better place in the process.
Relationships: Nick Burkhardt/Monroe, Nick Burkhardt/Monroe/Sean Renard
Comments: 8
Kudos: 84





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay! This is going to be long so apologies in advance and it may continue in the end notes if I don't have enough space.  
> 1) I only watched up until S4 before I got too enraged to continue so this is LOOSELY canon at best blatantly non canon at worst
> 
> 2) I wrote this for NaNo and it is so self indulgent and it is very much just a collection of wish fulfilment ideas loosely connected through plot
> 
> 3) There are.... a lot of OC's because I did not want to keep looking up names, fun fact I was calling Kelly "Nick's Mother" all the way through until like a week ago when I finally looked it up. Keeping in that vein a lot of the lore and the magic is completely made up, and I doubt it is cohesive but I kinda like it that way. If I made super obvious mistakes with the naming or spelling of things though (like Woge or Blutbad) then totally feel free to point it out!
> 
> 4) I have read so many time travel fics because it is my absolute favourite trope and I'm sure that it will show so I'm going to rec a few at the beginning of each chapter and hopefully that will cover it if I accidentally regurgitate bits from them
> 
> 5) FOR EXAMPLE I was rereading my first chapter and I realised it is SO similar to "Backslide" by Blackkat which is a phenomenal read and even if you're not a Naruto fan you should give it a go because it's incredible, as is "reverse"
> 
> 6) "lay down your sweet and weary head" by Elenothar and "Unleash Your Demons" by Keira Marcos are also amazing
> 
> 7) I live in Australia and I did not try that hard to American this fic apart from making everything in miles instead of kilometres, so I am sorry if it's a bit jarring!
> 
> 8) you will not BELIEVE how often I had to stop myself from capitalising it and adding an m whenever someone did/said something grimly
> 
> 9) this fic is being beta'd by the INCREDIBLE Zahnie who writes fantastic fic that you should absolutely binge. I am constantly in awe at her ability to mesh fandoms and the great way she writes my fave ot3 Parker/Hardison/Eliot
> 
> 10) This fic could absolutely be polished more, re-edited into a better, more coherent story but tbh I have ~500 wips in my Evernote and I just need to start posting stuff, hence the pseud. Hope you enjoy it!

The burn of Nick's legs is a constant companion, one he barely notices anymore. Occasionally, in the moments before he sleeps, tired, _exhausted_ , he wonders if his body will ever catch up to the life he's living and cease to be in pain.

He doubts it.

Rest and relaxation is a luxury none of them can afford these days, and any snatches they do manage invariably get eaten up by fruitless planning and brainstorming for a solution that seems further and further away every day.

He runs, senses attuned to every shift in the environment in a way that isn't quite human, best evidenced by the warmth that arises in his chest when Monroe is within three miles of him, much too far for him to have picked up on it by hearing, no matter how much his hearing has improved these days. 

And it has improved. Has needed to. In this ravaged world they inhabit, every advantage is a literal lifesaver, and if Nick wasn't so focused on every worry that he's still not _enough_ , he'd marvel at how far he's pushed his limits. He's pretty sure that he's gone further than any Grimm ever has in exploring the gifts his bloodline has given him, is more in tune with himself, has accepted every part of himself, but there's no way to check. The trailer was one of the last trappings of his old life to go, but go it did, and there's no way to communicate with people other than face-to-face lest the magical virus flurry to their location.

If it wasn't destroying his whole world, Nick would be fascinated at how it works, honing in on electrical signals and any gatherings of people larger than fifty, but alas, it is destroying his world.

"Brooding, Nick?" Monroe pants, sliding into place next to him, matching him stride for stride as they run, as in sync as if they are one body. 

"Just thinking, something you wouldn't know much about," Nick teases back, not allowing his pace to slow at the increased feeling of safety he gets when Monroe is by his side.

Won't do anything to risk his best and closest person.

Juliette is long gone, slipping off into the night one day near the beginning of all this, too burned by a decade of secrets and drama to want to spend the rest of her life in such close quarters with them, the ones who had lied to her and manoeuvred her.

Nick doesn't blame her, he knows he made mistakes, but he does wish he knew whether she is still alive.

Adalind had run for Germany at the first sign of trouble, and Nick thinks she probably even believed Renard's family would have a solution — or at least a bunker with which to ride it out — but Nick is inclined to think that they were just as blindsided as everyone else, and too confident in their belief of their own superiority to truly panic until it was too late.

"Ouch, my poor heart," Monroe levies back. "Carelessly played upon by my fearless leader and his mocking words."

"I'm sure you'll get over it," Nick says dryly, and then feels his attention hone forwards in a way that signifies danger, the hair on the back of his neck standing up in a way that only happens when magic approaches.

"STORM INCOMING!" he bellows, picking up speed, pushing himself as hard as he can go in order to make it back to his people who are scattering into their designated groups of ten, spreading out in order to attempt to mitigate the storm's attraction.

There's a crackle of red lightning and the temperature rises a good twenty degrees in an instant, making the air feel hot and swampy, the atmosphere pressing down on them with an almost physical presence.

The wind starts to rage but there's no relief in the air that washes over them; it whips at their clothing, scrapes over their skin in hot gusts, makes it hard to move. 

Nick is never as aware of Monroe as he is in these moments, knowing that every move he makes will be countered and supported by him as they work to strip their camp, each action anticipated and continued in a dance that would be beautiful if it wasn't so harrowing.

The clouds that have rapidly formed over their location turn blacker, the daylight smothered until it's as dark as dusk but Nick barely even needs his eyes these days to know where to go and what to do, and Monroe has always had keener eyesight than him. Nick keeps seeing little flashes of light out the corner of his eyes, Monroe's Blutbad enhanced vision in heavy use. 

Lighting flashes through the air once again and there's a high pitched scream that they cannot stop to wonder about as they finish their duties, moving all the more quickly in case that'll make a difference.

Finally, _finally_ , they're done, and in one fluid movement, they turn and run straight in the direction of the scream. Nick's pulse pounds in his ears, fear clogging up his throat.

He doesn't know how much more he can stand to lose without a part of himself dying, knows he will continue on until the bitter end, can't do anything else, but he hopes that at least the bitter end will be many years from now, with no more losses to his name.

If there's one thing Nick refuses to do, it's to lose hope.

That hope is hard to hold onto, though, when he bounds into the clearing and finds Daniela and Aaron trying desperately to move an unconscious (god _please_ let him just be unconscious) Bud even as the air is getting staticky and heavy around them, the build-u[ before another lightning strike.

"Go, go!" Nick yells, and the relief in their eyes is painful to see as they stop trying to lift Bud, letting him down with a gentleness they don't really have time for, and take off, not even looking back to see if Nick and Monroe will take him. Their trust is that strong.

Nick and Monroe duck down as one, hoisting Bud up over Monroe's shoulder in a fireman's carry, Nick taking the bags out of Monroe's arms in a smooth trade off that would probably look impossible if there was anyone there to watch it and they run for their designated scatter area, and Rosalee.

Running out of the epicentre of a magic storm is always the strangest feeling. Nick knows it's not actually what happens but he always feels like he breaks through a bubble or force field and then they're finally safe.

It's a dangerous thought to have, and was one of the first ways they lost someone because it's an illusion; you're not any safer once you've hit that point because the storm can recongregate much faster on the outskirts.

The fact that it has traps in it makes Nick think that it's an adapting virus instead of just bad weather, but it's just another thing he muses about in snatches of time when his mind isn't occupied by more important things. 

They run until they don't feel any of the pervasive magical heat or wind, but they don't slow down even as they approach the rest of their group, not with the precious cargo that they're carrying.

Rosalee watches them come with a grim expression, area already cleared for Bud, Aaron and Daniela having warned her what was coming.

Monroe lays Bud down carefully, and Nick doesn't have to look at him to know he too can hear the way Bud's heartbeat is slowing, scattered and irregular.

Rosalee works fast, stripping his shirt off and slathering potions on every raised red line from the lightning, trying to draw the magic out of him before it stops his heart.

Even if he does survive this, it's only an extension of his life. His organs will never be the same after the strain they've been put through, and he won't be able to Woge without intense pain, a handicap that most Wesen find they cannot handle.

Bud is strong and adaptable, but it doesn't look good.

Nick can't bear to watch, knows he doesn't bring anything to the table, so he squeezes Monroe's shoulder to let him know he's doing a perimeter sweep, and then he does just that.

It's an hour before Monroe finds him, and Nick just _knows_ by the heavy tread of his steps that Bud is gone.

Bud, who was always ready with a smile and a joke to try and cheer people up, Bud who was one of the first Wesen friends he made who was at a total disadvantage with a Grimm and still believed he could be different from his brethren, Bud who was happy and loving and _kind_ , always willing to help Nick out in the pursuit of justice.

Nick feels tears roll gently down his face, Monroe a silent shadow next to him as they grieve for a man that was one of the best humanity had to offer.

They build a pyre that night, and when they light it, the rest of Nick's people join them in mourning, willing to risk another storm being created from their numbers in order to honour a man they all loved, and none of them look away.

"This isn't fair," Rosalee says lowly, methodically wrapping up her herbs and tinctures, the faint tremble in her hands the only evidence of how much she's been affected.

"No," Hank says, the word full of everything he's feeling, and quiet falls over the four of them, the last four of their original core.

Nick wasn't expecting it to hit Hank as hard as it did — not that Hank didn't love Bud, but he hadn't known him as long as the rest of them — but they're all reeling at the loss of someone they knew before.

Always _before_.

"I've been thinking," Rosalee says, and there's something in her voice that makes all of them take notice.

She pauses, like she's deciding whether or not to share her thoughts, and a tingle of excitement shoots up Nick's spine. This is going to be a game changer, he can tell.

Somehow, even through the certainty that Rosalee has come up with something, Nick is completely blindsided by what she actually says when she looks straight at him.

"I think you should travel back in time to before the storms."

There's a beat of silence.

"This might as well happen," Hank drawls, "Life around y'all is already so goddamned weird."

"That seems a bit far-fetched doesn't it?" Nick says, wincing almost as the words come out of his mouth, he looks up to see the sardonic glares the rest of them are levelling at him. "No, no, I heard it as soon as I said it. Okay. Time travel."

He meets their eyes, one by one, and sees the same mix of determination and last, desperate hope that he feels rushing through him.

It's an easy decision to make.

All told, it takes them three weeks to prepare which doesn't feel like enough time in the scheme of things, but it's when they're as ready as they'll ever be in terms of stuff needed for the ritual, and they don't want to take any chances that something will happen to prevent them from doing it.

"Don't you dare try to foist him off on me," Rosalee says fiercely one evening. She's not the first one to talk to him about things they want to happen in the past, about actions he should or shouldn't take; there's been a steady stream of musings and suggestions and pleas concealed as whims.

Nick stares at her, eyes dark.

"Since when have I ever tried to let go of Monroe," he says lowly. Rosalee nods firmly, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Nick doesn't mind. He doesn't understand why she won't come back with them — Monroe gets it apparently, but doesn't agree in the slightest and that's all that Nick needs — but he can accept it.

Rosalee has made it clear that she's completely fine with them manoeuvring her into their lives and their court, feels like she has all of the fire that she needs in the past undimmed by the troubles on her shoulders. Nick silently vows once again to save her brother, knowing how his death has weighed on her, and hopes that'll be enough to change the course of her fate.

Isn't sure, because fate is a tricky bitch on a good day, but is hopeful.

Hank is the one to talk to him about Juliette, because as much as Monroe has come to mean to Nick, Hank has been there for him through thick and thin before there was anything special about him.

It's not something he's inclined to forget, and it's why he would have done things differently this time around even if Hank hadn't laid out exactly how to get him on board.

It's pretty much more of the same.

Be honest. Be upfront. Be real. 

Be yourself.

Be free.

The morning of the day when they go back in time dawns with an almost audible hush over the land. There's unease in all of their movements as they lay the patterns and mix the body paste for the runes that they inscribe on Nick and Monroe to anchor their souls. 

Then, the hair on the back of Nick's neck stand on end.

"NOW, NOW, WE HAVE TO DO IT NOW!" he yells urgently, and then Hank and Rosalee are chanting, Nick and Monroe pressing the tips of their fingers together as they breathe as one...

...lightning strikes....

Nick wakes up. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 time travel fic recs!!
> 
> 1) Everything Esama writes is amazing, and the time travel fics are the stuff of my dreams. I've read them all like a bajillion times because they are just SO satisfying and hit all of my favourite tropes every time. My two personal favourites are "sometime yesterday" which is complete and "Certain Point" which is a wip.
> 
> 2) I LIVE for Cywscross fics, I've gotten into like three new fandoms just because the writing is so good. My favourite is "Swinging Pendulum" it's unfinished but I personally don't think it ends on too much of a cliffhanger or anything, I always find it satisying to read.
> 
> 3) "The Desert Storm" by Blue_Sunshine is just. perfection. I've been reading it since it first started being posted and I cannot BELIEVE it's over 500,000 words now, it feels like such a quick read. The series isn't finished yet but Blue_Sunshine is a VERY regular updater I am in awe tbh.

The first thing Nick notices is how warm and comfortable he is. He wakes up slowly, and only once awareness filters in, does it kick him into gear as to how _wrong_ that is. 

His whole body tenses and he opens his eyes to see a white ceiling, flares his nostrils to smell rose-scented body spray, reaches out to sense Monroe and gets _nothing_.

"Nick? What's wrong?" Juliette asks sleepily and Nick cannot hold himself back, he _whoops_.

"Nick?" Juliette asks, caught between laughter and alarm as she watches Nick leap out of bed.

"It _worked_ ," Nick says, whirling around to face her, "I can't tell you what just yet because you wouldn't believe me, but as soon as I get home with Monroe, I'll explain _everything_ , I promise."

"Nick," she says, concern written all over her face, and Nick can't help but smile helplessly at the sight of her, unbowed by stress and secrets.

"I promise," he says again, heading for their closet (a whole fucking _walk-in_ filled with clothes, the decadence) "but trust me when I say it's unbelievable without proof and I have a lot to get through today."

He thanks the universe that he was in the habit of hanging his clothes the night before, because the sheer volume of choice would make his head spin if he had to decide. Pulling the clothes off the hanger is a sensory experience that nearly makes his knees buckle, and the weakness in his fingers is fortunate because it forces him to dress slowly. 

He can only imagine how easily the flimsy patterned shirt would rip if he subjected it to the speedy clothes change he'd perfected in the future.

There's a muffled thump down at street level that Nick recognises _intimately_ as a body hitting the ground and the _shnick_ of a knife being pulled from its sheath and he just knows which day he's managed to land on.

He groans.

"Speaking of stuff to get through, Aunt Marie has just decided to show up _without warning me_ so I am sorry if she says anything crazy to you. Feel free to book her a hotel if she's driving you nuts or being rude, use my boat fund," he says, coming out of the closet, focused on his tie as he tries to remember how to tie even a simple knot.

"Nick, you're scaring me. You're so... different." Juliette says hesitantly, wrapping her arms around her legs, the fact that she isn't asking how he knows about Marie a sign as to how rattled she really is. 

Nick looks up, hands taking over and tying his tie now that he's stopped thinking about it and can rely on muscle memory.

He meets Juliette's eyes and is certain by the way they widen that she can see the sadness in his.

"Yeah," he says, not doing her the discourtesy of denying it, "And I will tell you all about it tonight. Once I have proof."

Juliette takes him at face value, watching him with eyes too big for her face as he gets ready, grinning like a madman the whole way through, every mundane motion practically a revelation for how easy and _convenient_ it all is. 

The tactile experience of a thousand different types of thing is almost sensory overload; clothes and bed spread and soap and even the shiny appliances in the kitchen, none of them are exempted from his questing fingers.

It's an intense refamiliarisation process that is as grounding as it is surprising. Surely he would have remembered having this much _stuff_ , even just to bemoan his lack of it.

It's a true sign that he isn't making this up because it's so _mundane_ that he is certain his brain wouldn't have latched onto it.

He really is _here,_ in his _home_.

The doorbell rings, and he swings the front door open with gusto. Even _doors_ are a delight to experience.

His aunt looks exactly as she did inside his memories--as if she'd popped out of his mind fully formed--a jarring experience that nearly jolts him out of his reverie.

That she says the words that have echoed around his brain ever since he heard them doesn't help, but luckily he can fob her off with the same thing he did last time, hasn't changed enough for that to be different, and he leaves.

He meets Hank for coffee, never more grateful for his tendency to write everything down in his little black book, and is nearly shocked into silence when he recognises Adalind walking down the street, clearly flashing her woge on purpose.

Had Renard known about him even at this point? He's not sure whether to be annoyed or impressed at the man's resourcefulness.

He decides to go for impressed.

He drags his attention off of Adalind to meet Hank's suspicious gaze. 

"There's something up with you," he says, sweeping his eyes assessingly over him, and Nick meets his stare baldly. 

"There is," he says, just as upfront as he was with Juliette. He knows he's changed over the years but he hadn't realised quite how much he must have to be clocked so quickly by the people who know him. It makes him wonder how close he truly was to Marie if she didn't notice anything, or if it's more that she assumed that the Grimm inheritance emerging was the cause for the changes in him.

Surprisingly, Hank doesn't push.

Or maybe it's not that surprising. Hank has always understood the concept of need-to-know, and as long as Nick is upfront about the fact that there _is_ something going on, Hank is content to wait.

It makes Nick's next words easy.

"There's something big happening," he says quietly, intently, keeping Hank's gaze so he knows how serious he is. "I don't think you'd believe me about it just yet, because it's both fantastical and a bit crazy, not because you don't trust me or I don't trust you. Give me three months of trust and then when you see results, you'll have a solid line of evidence for me to lay my reveal on."

Hank scowls, suspicion not fading, but being put to rest.

"That's a lot to ask, partner," he says, meaning _yes_.

They head into the precinct together, where Nick avoids Renard, knowing he needs a bit more of a game plan if he wishes to deal with him properly, especially with the way the man is clearly at the height of his plans and the way everyone who knows him has picked up on the massive change within him. There's no way that Renard, as focused and observant as the man is right now, will be fooled, and Nick does not need him to be any more interested in him than he already is. 

It wouldn't be an overall loss, would just force Nick to work that much harder, but if they can avoid it, then why not?

They'll have to deal with Renard eventually, may as well have as many ducks in a row as possible when they do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rereading this just shows how much I don't remember of canon lmaooo. Sadly I'm too busy rewatching Psych in preparation for Psych 2 to do a rewatch.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 time travel recs!
> 
> "Comes around again" by scarletjedi an absolutely DELIGHTFUL fic where Gimli goes back in time and joins the quest. 
> 
> "Wind Shear" by Chilord I reread this one often, I love how powerful Harry is, and how interesting the magic is and his use of it. How realistically he was changed by the war but ddn't lose the things that make him Harry.
> 
> "How to save the world with no one even realising" by IncompleteSentac One of the first Naruto fics I ever read and the one that got me hooked.

Monroe wakes up feeling safe in a way he's only ever felt a few times and knows exactly when—and where—he is.

He opens his eyes and meets the interior of the master bedroom in the den he'd carved out for himself with painstaking time and effort, gut clenching at the loss of his connection to Nick.

He's sure his Alpha will be here by the end of the day to reinstate the bond, stronger and better than before. Better, because while neither of them will be as alert and battle honed as they were in the future, it's undeniable that his body is much healthier right now than he was. Turns out stress and lack of food have a big impact on your strength, who knew?

He doesn't even bother to consider the notion that he is alone in this time because if there's one belief Monroe holds, it's that Nick will _never_ leave him.

For a Blutbad who's separate from the pack, who's been betrayed and left by countless people who'd promised to be there for him, that kind of surety is hard-won. Besides, the world tends to bend to Nick's goals anyway.

Monroe is certain Nick will be here, as certain as the grass is green and a Grimm's eyes are the colour of the void.

He gets up.

His fridge is so full of food. He spends a good ten minutes staring at it, heedless of the waste of electricity as the cool air wafts past him.

He remembers this. One of the hardest things for him to do had been to give up meat and so he'd spend a whole day at the farmers market each week picking up the choicest fresh ingredients in order to give himself the best possible food to work with. To make it an _experience_.

The luxury of being able to eat only vegetarian isn't lost on him, but his desire to provide a meal that will make Nick _moan_ means he leaves the house go and pick up the most expensive steak he can find.

The crowds make him flinch because he's too used to keeping all of his senses dialed up to eleven. It takes him longer than it should to find something worthy of his Alpha.

He doesn't mind. The _vibrancy_ of the life in Portland grates over his senses in a way that makes him feel alive and when he gets home, he has the _option_ of digging his hands into the dirt and gardening to his heart's content in order to reorganise his mind.

He plants all the herbs he has and makes a list for more to buy when Nick has found the treasures he needs for his capital. Until then, they may as well make the most of his garden.

Maybe Nick will let him organise his garden too—if Juliette is willing to deal with them.

Monroe lets warmth rise up in him at the knowledge that there is no way Nick will abandon him for her, and puts himself to work.

Nick remembers this case vividly. How can he not? His first Wesen case will always be one to remember _and_ it's the day he met Monroe.

This time, however, he doesn't fuck with Monroe's life. He merely tells Hank he has a hunch, giving him a signal that is comprised of three raised fingers in. To Hank, it looks like a reminder of "three months" and to Nick it’s actually a W for _Wesen_. He interviews the people along the road, leaving Monroe for last, just in time for lunch.

Nick knocks on Monroe's door and falls into his arms when he opens it, clutching him tight in a hug that grounds them both. Having Monroe's skin touching his is a poor substitute for the bond that should be there, but it's enough in this moment.

Then his brain processes the scent wafting out of the house and his knees buckle, hand reaching out to grip the door frame to prevent himself from falling to the floor.

" _Monroe_ ," he moans, "You _didn_ 't."

Monroe smirks at him but he can't hold it for long as it softens into a gentle smile.

"You know I did," he says, leading Nick further into his home.

"Monroe, you didn't have to buy meat just for me," Nick says, pushing down the dopey look on his face.

Monroe grins at him.

"I know," he says smugly, "But I wanted to. And besides, if I want to eat meat nowadays I can, it's not as necessary to hold onto such a rigid lifestyle in order to keep control. I have you to anchor me, even without the bond."

"Which we will reinstate as soon as possible," Nick says, firmly, and sees the tiny bit of tension Monroe probably wasn't even aware he was carrying dissipate.

"How was your day?" Monroe asks, once they're seated at the table.

Nick lets out an explosive breath.

"Intense," he says wryly, "And we're going to have to come up with a way to deal with Renard sooner than expected because I saw Adalind today flashing her face at me, and both Hank and Juliette immediately picked up on the fact that there was something completely different about me so there's no way Renard will miss it. I'm hoping we can put if off for a while by chalking it up to my inheritance coming in, but that's just a stopgap until we decide how to deal with him."

"And Juliette?" Monroe asks, and to his credit, it's completely neutral.

Nick sighs.

"I think I scared her a bit this morning," he says, "Not to mention she's dealing with Aunt Marie who is perhaps more bigoted than I remember."

Monroe hums, dishing up some salad onto Nick's plate next to the steak that Nick is resisting with the iron force of will that he gained through years of running through an apocalyptic minefield.

"You have to remember that at this point there was not even the rumours of a Grimm who was different to the boogeyman we all knew. She doesn't know any better."

"Very gracious of you," Nick says, and even his iron will can't stop himself from reaching out to touch Monroe.

It's electric, and Monroe lifts his chin to bare his neck in an obvious tease that makes Nick shudder.

"I'll come over this evening so you can show her proof."

"Thanks Monroe."

The meal ends up going by far too fast and Nick reluctantly lets go of Monroe's hand, dragging his finger tips over Monroe's wrist as he does so, and gets to his feet.

"Time to go and arrest our first murderer," Monroe teases, and Nick smiles helplessly at him.

"Thanks for doing this," he says, quietly.

"Anything for you," Monroe says, no less meaningful for how automatically it's stated.

It ends up being rather anticlimactic. The Blutbad is so used to taking down human prey that doesn't fight back that they end up not even having to knock him out in order to subdue him. Hank is initially sceptical of bringing along Monroe even as a potential witness, but his strength comes in handy to hold the kidnapper while they search the rest of the house.

Nick is struck hard by the gasping relief the child shows him; her tiny body feels like nothing in his arms, a precious cargo that really drives home the point that he can still save people, that there are those relying on him who don't even know it.

They get home late. Post-arrest paperwork and witness interviews keep them far beyond the end of Nick's shift, and Nick is beyond relieved that Marie is not there.

He dispatched the reapers this morning so she won't be attacked by them (a little bit more of a workout than the Big Sad Wolf had been, but not by much) and it'll take at least two days before any new ones get into town. If they are even sent.

He's not quite sure how he would have taken it if Marie was there, but on the upside, it would have been the quickest way to prove the whole Grimm thing was real if she straight up attacked Monroe.

Although, maybe she would have waited in deference for Juliette.

Juliette is clearly bewildered at the unexpected guest, but she accepts the invitation to sit down, and then Nick talks.

Juliette stares at them mutely for a solid twenty minutes, eyes flicking between them almost subconsciously.

They wait. Time is something they have, and it's a lot to absorb.

Nick thinks it would be difficult to accept as fact if they didn't have the shock of the Woge that is so obviously supernatural.

Finally, she says, "Do the thing again," staring at Monroe who waits until Nick nods - he's not taking any chances with showing who exactly he belongs to—and he woges.

He can't help but compare it to the first time this happened and the way she walked out.

He's glad, for Nick's sake, that she didn't do that this time, but then again, the time travel is probably her main focus, the idea that her boyfriend is not the same man she woke up next to this morning.

"Why tell me?"

"You deserve to know," Nicks says simply. "I'm sorry that you've been dragged into this merely by virtue of knowing me, but I have loved you for a very long time, and I still do, so if you want to be a part of this world, then you can."

"You kept me out of it the first time around, didn't you."

It's not a question.

"I did," Nick admits. "It was stupid and unfair, and when you were dragged into it, you were unprepared. I don't want that to happen this time. And besides, the Wesen world is going to be dragged into the limelight in the next ten years whether they like it or not, so I have to admit it's practical to give you a head start on it."

"Thanks for not lying," she says, and it's sincere. “But I need you to leave now please. I just. I need some time to myself."

"Whatever you need," Nick says gently, and heads home with Monroe.

"That went better than expected," Nick says, hanging up his coat on his hook. "But I can't say I'm upset that I get to spend the night with you. I want to wake up safe with you at least once, with minimal drama, and I get the feeling that's not going to happen too often in the future."

"We should get started on planning," Monroe says, tilting his head to the side to make room for Nick to put his hand there. "I have some wicked cool ideas for training."

"Overachiever," Nick teases fondly, and Monroe smirks at him.

Nick sighs.

"I've got to deal with Marie. Plus, we need to talk about what to do with Renard."

"I'll get the hot cocoa," Monroe says, and lets the smugness show on his face at Nick's covetous moan.

They do actually plan. Time is a luxury they can afford, but that doesn't mean much when they want to cram a whole new civilisation's creation in the next ten years.

It's an evening that feels like nostalgia, of both the past and the future they came back from. Of evenings they spent in tandem, working quietly as they search for the Wesen that was the culprit or going over the areas they'd run and finding out where to go to next. Of planning their future moves or figuring out things that they needed to cure the current ailment. 

It grounds them further into this time and place.


End file.
